


Never the right time

by ideas7



Category: Daft Punk
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2014-06-16
Packaged: 2018-02-04 20:23:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1792027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ideas7/pseuds/ideas7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas thinks he has all he needs from life; a successful music career, a family and his best friend Guy. Guy still feels there is something missing. And he knows exactly what that something is. </p><p>Set in Thomas's family home, the two 30-somethings that are Daft Punk contemplate the cards they've been dealt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never the right time

**Author's Note:**

> i'll proof read this tomorrow because it's LATE and i'm getting a bit CRANKY!

"Gee?-" Thomas called out as he wondered from room to room on the ground floor of his house, searching for his friend. "- Guy? Guy-Man?" 

Thomas gave up searching the ground floor and made his way to the first floor, his long legs making quick work of scaling the marble staircase. He headed directly for his guest room, which was fondly referred to within his household as 'Guy's Room', as Guy was a very regular visitor. So regular, in fact, that a lot of the items that lived permanently in the room belonged to Guy personally, such as items of clothing and bottles of aftershave.

After a quick scan, Thomas noted no sign of Guy. A faint smell of burning tobacco wafted under Thomas's nose as he turned to leave Guy's room, causing Thomas to swivel on his heels and take another look at the room. He realised that the curtain covering the sliding balcony door was fluttering around slightly, hinting at the door being open. Gently pulling back the curtain, Thomas peered onto the balcony, the cold an bitter night air chilling his face. 

"Hey..." Thomas said quietly as he approached Guy, who was sitting with his knees hugged to his chest on a wooden bench on the balcony, smoking a cigarette.

Guy didn't notice Thomas's presence until he felt a gentle tap on his leg as Thomas sat next to him. Guy flinched slightly, being suddenly shocked out of his deep thoughts. 

"Oh, hey" Guy replied, giving his friend a lopsided smile as he brushed a lock of his hair away from his eyes.

"What are you doing out here? It's freezing!" Thomas questioned, shivering slightly as the wind blew violently against them.

Guy looked away, turning his focus onto his cigarette. He shrugged. "Mhh... thinking... 'n' stuff..." He mumbled.

"Thinking about what?"

Guy shrugged again. "Stuff, I guess..."

Thomas laughed. "Is that all I'm going to get out of you? 'Stuff' ?" He said, mocking his friend's tone.

Guy laughed too, stubbing out his cigarette before reaching into his jeans pocket to pull out another. As he did so, Thomas noticed that Guy was shivering, his fingers trembling as he fiddled with the cigarette packet and struggled to flick on his lighter. 

"Hey, oh God you're freezing!" Thomas said worriedly, knitting his eyebrows together.

"I'm fine" 

"No you're shivering! Oh...here..." Thomas took off his jacket and placed it around Guy's shoulders, rubbing his back in an attempt to warm him up.

Guy rolled his eyes. "You worry too much, I'm fine! Here... take it back or you will get cold..." He said as he tried to shrug the jacket off of himself, to no avail. Thomas pushed the jacket back onto Guy with a stern look on his face.

"No. Keep it. You'll catch a cold."

Guy sighed, giving in to Thomas. He figured that this battle wasn't worth fighting, and so surrendered and thanked his friend.

"Thank you, Thomas." Guy said as stuck a cigarette between his lips and made another attempt to flick the lighter.

Thomas took the lighter out of Guy's cold fingers and lit it for him. Guy leaned in to light his cigarette, and Thomas reached out his free hand to tuck a stray bit of Guy's hair behind his ear, worrying that it might accidentally get caught in the flame.

Taking a long drag, Guy turned to face the night sky, which was scarred by grey, ragged looking clouds, with only the light of the moon to illuminate them. Thomas turned to Guy as he watched the sky, his neck craning upwards, a slight look of wonder on his face.

"Thomas..." Guy murmured, not breaking his focus from the sky.

"Yes?"

"Do you ever... ever...-" Guy turned suddenly, looking at Thomas with a frown set upon his face. "-wonder what life would be like if things... well... turned out differently?" 

Thomas raised an eyebrow. "Differently for us, do you mean?"

Guy nodded.

"Uh... well yeah, I guess? I'm not quite sure I follow you..." Thomas intoned.

"I mean, like, if we just grew up and had normal jobs, or if we didn't meet all the people we've met-" Guy dropped his eyes to the floor, leaning forward slightly to allow a curtain of hair to drape over his face. "-or if we didn't have the families we have." He finished, mumbling increasingly as the sentence went on.

"Well yeah uh, life would be different then..." Thomas said, chuckling lightly.

Guy felt his face flush a little, disheartened at how Thomas had seemed to laugh the musings off. Guy was keen to get his best friend's point of view on the ideas that kept him awake at night. Guy was often left unable to sleep due to his mind racing with thoughts, deliberating all the possible routes their lives could have taken, both separately and together.

"Élodie called, by the way. Her and the kids will be back a bit late they've only just left." Thomas said, referring to his wife and children who went to visit a family member that evening, leaving Thomas and Guy at Thomas's house. Guy was visiting for the weekend, alone. 

Guy nodded, a little annoyed at the change in conversation topic. 

It didn't take Thomas long to sense this. "So, uh-" Thomas cleared his throat. "- what do you think could be different, then?"

"Just things like... what sort of job would we have if we weren't musicians? Where would we live? What sort of money would we be making? Would we have kids? Be married?"

Thomas frowned. "I think we would still have our families..."

"But would they be the same families? We wouldn't have met the same women if we didn't make it as musicians, let's be honest."

Thomas chewed his bottom lip, pondering the thought. "I guess so..."

"I just-" Guy raised his hands and dropped them, shrugging. "-I don't know."

"Guy?"

"Mm?"

"Are you unhappy?" Thomas quizzed, giving Guy a sorrowful look.

Guy hugged his knees, pulling them closer to his chest. He bit his lip as he fiddled with his wedding ring, twisting it around his finger. "No."

"Something is bothering you, I can tell. You can tell me anything, you know that."

"It's just... oh... FUCK IT I don't know." Guy sighed, digging his nails into his palms as the made tight fists with his hands.

"Hey... oh don't get angry..." Thomas said gently as he began rubbing Guy's back lovingly, attempting to comfort him.

Guy buried his face into his hands, determined not to let Thomas see him cry. Guy was annoyed at himself because he could never find the courage to say what he wanted to say. No matter how long he spent thinking over it in his mind, how long he spent rehearsing and re-rehearsing his wording or how long he spent waiting for the right time, he could never say what he wanted to say. Guy bit his bottom lip hard, trying to create a physical pain that he could focus on the distract himself from the tears welling in his eyes. Guy cursed himself, angry that he was showing such intense emotion, but decided to put it down to the alcohol he had been consuming that evening which appeared to be brining his guard down.

Thomas had a brainwave. He gently patted Guy's arm and whispered "I'll be one second, stay there." Before getting up and padding back inside the house. 

Returning to the balcony with a notepad and pen in hand, Thomas resumed his seat next to Guy.

"Hey...-" Thomas gently shook Guy, who was still sat with his face in his hands. "-notepad?"

Guy revealed his face, looking at the notepad in Thomas's hands. He smiled gratefully, understanding the significance of it. When they were younger and still in school together, they would often use paper to write each other notes when they had classes together. This was so they could still communicate but ran a lower risk of being caught by their teacher, and their conversations could remain entirely private between the two of them. Guy found it a lot easier to express himself through writing compared to speech, so he could often use writing on a notepad as a means of communicating ideas to Thomas later in life whilst working on music projects. Once or twice it had even been used when either Guy was extremely upset or angry, and he found that it helped him get things off his chest to Thomas a lot easier.

Guy gingerly accepted the notepad and pen from Thomas, his hands still shaking from the cold of the night. Thomas sat back in is seat, moving his attention away from Guy to allow him time to write down his message. 

Guy spent a little while debating what exactly he was going to write to show Thomas, and he made a few failed attempts at starting, each time ripping off the page and crumpling it up, shoving them safely into his trouser pockets.

 _I can't believe I'm fucking doing this..._ Guy though to himself, his heart racing. The lump in his throat felt as if it was about to suffocate him when he started sensing how impatient Thomas was becoming, drumming his fingers on his thigh and tapping his feet against the floor.

Just then, the sound of a car approaching the house became apparent. Thomas jumped to his feet. 

"They're back!-" He said as he began to walk away, heading back inside. "-finish writing that and I'll come back in a minute, yeah?"

Guy felt his heart drop, he couldn't tell Thomas now, this wasn't the right time.

"No, fuck it. Don't worry this was a stupid idea... It was nothing anyway..."

"Okay..." Thomas responded, sounding unsure, before turning and walking back into Guy's room anyway, heading to welcome back his family. 

"Fuck..." Guy muttered to himself under his breath, kicking himself for yet another missed opportunity and for making himself look like an idiot.

He dug his nails into his palms again, clenching his fists until they turned white. This time Guy couldn't suppress the tears that escaped his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. He was crying, whether he liked it or not. And he still couldn't tell his best friend how he really felt, whether he liked it or not.

 


End file.
